


charismata

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Dominant Kylo Ren, Drinking, Genital Piercing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kylo Amidala, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Submissive Armitage Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26376835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Bored at a lavish gala thrown in honor of the First Order and the royal family of Naboo coming together, Kylo spots a slim, red-haired general amongst the visiting ranks, and decides he must have him.Hux gets more than he was anticipating once he's lured into the fragrant, beguiling chambers of the prince.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 13
Kudos: 152
Collections: Classic Kylux Throwback 2020





	charismata

**Author's Note:**

> I've been so enamored with Kylo Amidala lately that I just had to write this quick fic for him! Technically for the first week of the Kylux Throwback event, though I'm late posting it. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, this fic references [millaflower](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Millaflower) a lot, so familiarize yourself with its effects before reading! Things will make more sense.
> 
> Pan did an awesome drawing inspired by this fic that you can find [here! ](https://twitter.com/StarseedComic/status/1303763381950840832?s=20)

There is a gala going on in the main ballroom of the Naboo palace, a joint celebration of both the newly reestablished Festival of Light and the comprehensive treaty signed between the ruling family and the First Order. Kylo can still see the echoes of it in his mind’s eye—the generous spread of food and drink native to his planet’s teeming biospheres, the tapestries adorning the walls sporting both the royal crest and the symbol of the Order in an alternating pattern, the misting ice sculpture chiseled in the shape of a cruising star destroyer, and most striking of all, the almost comical contrast between the lavish outfits donned by the Naboo luminaries and the minimalist attire of the First Order officials, who apparently considered a lapel pin to be the very height of ostentation. 

Kylo had been there, earlier, seated with his mother the Queen on one side and his sister, the heir-apparent, on the other. At one point, such lavish parties had excited him, but they had grown dull in recent months, as his mother had shifted from courting unique and entertaining alien species to the more mundane, boorish humans of the First Order. And so Kylo, who would usually be out mingling with the crowds and languishing in the attention paid to his grandiose outfits and manner, had stayed mumbling gossip at his sister’s side over flutes of light, sparkling wine and an untouched shaak roast. 

At least until Kylo had spotted something unusual. Something that stood out amidst the ranks of stodgy, wrinkled old Imperial antiques that seemed to clutter the First Order’s highest chain of command. 

Something he knew he had to possess. 

And that was how General Armitage Hux, a man whose pristine, plunderable beauty had been unknown to Kylo until now, had ended up kneeling on the carpet in Kylo’s bedroom, with his lips wrapped around the thick shaft of the prince’s cock.

“Hungry thing, aren’t you?” Kylo rakes his fingers affectionately through Hux’s hair, grabbing a loose fistful of it near the back of his skull. “You could’ve taken as much of the food at the banquet as you wanted…but maybe you had your eye on something more delicious. Was that it? Were you saving your appetite for me?”

Hux lets out a low, indecipherable noise around the cock in his mouth. Kylo vaguely picks out assent amidst the slurring moan, shivering at how submissive the straight-backed, snooty general has grown in what feels like mere moments. The man who had made the very stars bow to him, kneeling before Kylo, allowing himself to be used without care, as if entranced. 

Kylo’s eye flicks knowingly to the left of Hux’s head, resting upon the fallen glass goblet and the pool of blood-dark wine spreading across the carpet. Alas, poor little general. Unable to handle the heady combination of the fine Alderaanian Syrah he had proposed they toast with, and the incense that perpetually fills Kylo’s bedchamber like the clouds of a brooding storm. He’s used to both the strong effects of the rare drink and the intense, soporific aroma of distilled millaflower favored among the Naboo elite, but it seems that Hux, more accustomed to the autoclaved cleanliness and synthetic, precisely administered medications aboard his ship, is struggling to maintain sound mind. 

It’s lucky that he has Kylo’s careful hands and watchful eyes looking out for him. And who knows what that loose mouth might say, if Kylo’s cock wasn’t currently inhabiting it, stretching the general’s lips out as they grow wet and pliable with each second of slavish suckling. 

Kylo bites his lip, tightening his grip in Hux’s hair as the general’s tongue lazily traces over the crown of piercings decorating Kylo’s cock-head. His genitals are as decorated as the rest of him, shaft marked with tattoos of dark red, almost black ink, beautifying this most profane part of him with designs one might find in the most worshipful temple. And indeed, Hux looks hopelessly devoted, sea-green eyes bright and misty all at once, cheeks dusted with blush; no doubt due in large part to the combination of alcohol and the millaflower perfume, but it pleases Kylo more to think that its the sheer might and beauty of his cock that has brought Hux to his knees, introduced such pacifying bliss into his typically so ordered, so strictly regimented mind. Kylo can sense the change pulsating off of Hux, without even having to probe too deeply with the Force—the caged longing he’d read off of Hux before he’d invited him to his bedchambers has been unleashed, but instead of raging like a wild animal it sits, like a domesticated dog, eager to please at Kylo’s feet. 

It brings to mind, albeit briefly, a memory of when he was a boy, out on his first hunt into the royal woods with his father. The prized oro buck had eluded their bow casters for miles of forest, nearly causing his father to give in out of frustration. But Kylo had always thought differently than the men around him, who defaulted to purely physical strategies, something he disdained though he was no doubt brawnier than they. 

He had always felt that catching prey necessitated both brutishness _and_ cunning.

_“Ben…” he heard his father gasp from behind, and for once the use of that hated name couldn’t detract from Kylo’s pride at what he had done._

_“See, father?” Kylo held up the head of the buck by its gold-velveted antlers, drawing his knife away from its ruined neck. Remains of the millaflowers he had plucked from his own hair in faux offering scattered the dead animal’s muzzle, deep red, deceptively beautiful petals stained deeper with blood. “You kill them with kindness.”_

A grin flickers across Kylo’s expression at the memory, even as he continues to hump Hux’s face; the feeling of the blood on his skin, the throb of trust the beast had put into it moments before his hands tightened like a noose. It’s far more delicious, sometimes, to lure the prey right into one’s clutches on charm alone, before delivering the killing blow. No matter what kind of prey it is. 

Eventually Kylo cannot resist the enticing tease of Hux’s slack, warm mouth any longer, and he tightens his grip on Hux’s hair, forcing his lips midway down his shaft, until the blunt head raps the back of Hux’s throat. Muscles spasm, slick and resisting despite it all, and the warm light from the lamp above catches on the tears that suddenly brim in Hux’s eyes, turned pink-gold like little precious gems all their own. Kylo catches one with the edge of a painted nail, admiring it for a moment as it glistens against the glossy red. 

“You are beautiful when you fall apart, little general,” Kylo coos, his next tug to Hux’s hair less sharp, more to ease the passage of his cock into the general’s throat. He watches Hux’s nostrils flare, unwittingly taking more of the thickening incense into his lungs. A few seconds pass, then Hux’s throat relaxes all the way, allowing Kylo to slip inside.

“G-good,” he moans, feeling the way his piercings roll and jostle against the tight friction of Hux’s throat. “Let me in. Let me in, little general. I never want to leave you.”

And Hux is so pliant, so willing, so loose that he lets Kylo fuck his throat with little abandon, saliva and pre-cum dripping down his lips to his chin, spotting the military-sharp black of his uniform with undeniable proof. Kylo’s hips lift off his lavish coverlet slightly as he fucks into Hux’s mouth with mounting intensity, chasing the peak of his orgasm, fueled by the drugged devotion in Hux’s eyes, the utter relinquishment, the satisfaction in undoing a man of such discipline ’til he was little more than a warm, wet hole for the prince of Naboo to fuck. 

Never has unconditional surrender looked so beautiful. 

Kylo is sweating bullets through the layers of his gala ensemble by the time he finally comes, shooting rivulets of seed down Hux’s throat. He judders his hips against Hux’s flushed face, forcing the general to swallow all of it, though a few drops, intermixed with saliva, escape when Kylo pulls out of Hux’s throat. He looks good that way, Kylo decides, the sloppiness painting his face and chin coordinating well with the still-glazed look in his eyes. Kylo takes a moment to admire it, as he comes down from his orgasm, cock softening against his thigh. 

Hux looks like a lost puppy, sitting there on the carpet, his face and uniform an utter mess. Kylo gives him a once-over, noting the damp bulge in the general’s jodhpurs, the way his tongue peeks needfully over his lower lip. 

Kylo smirks. 

“Little general, you’re filthy,” he says, clucking his tongue like he disapproves, when in reality he’s seen little that’s more beautiful—which is saying something for a man who spends his life in rich clothes, surrounded by mirrors. Kylo rises from the bed, shedding the heaviest layers of his ensemble, which leaves him in a loose, silken gown. “Come now, let’s get you into the bath.”

He helps Hux to his feet, supporting the general’s weight when Hux falters forward, muscles still weak from all the stimulation. From everything Kylo had done to him. And they had only just started. 

Kylo’s grin widens, tip of a pierced tongue poking devilishly between his teeth as he holds onto Hux, one hand strategically cupped to the general’s pert rear. He looks to the door leading to the adjoined bathroom as he pulled Hux in closer, feeling his cock liven again as he rubs it against the general’s bulge and into his ear whispers:

“I can take care of everything that’s still bothering you in there, my pet.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments, let me know if you guys enjoyed this! 
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/)


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